


Restriction

by ladyjax



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M, Female Character of Color, Fetish Clothing, Implied Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-07
Updated: 2011-08-07
Packaged: 2017-10-22 08:40:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/236194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyjax/pseuds/ladyjax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clothing makes the woman.  John Sheppard approves.  Written for Porn Battle XII.  Prompts: corset, silk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Restriction

It had been her idea; her gift to the three of them. But it was to John that she gave the honor of actually being the first to see her in it.

The skirt was bronze silk and sheer, evoking her fighting skirts, with the only intent to tease and tantalize. When John slipped it out of its packaging, his eyes turned dark as did his tone.

“Come here.”

Teyla stepped to up to him, her eyes taking in the change in John's posture. He stood straighter and held the skirt up.

“You bought this for us, for me. Why?”

She was taken aback and struggled to find the words to express what she was feeling. “I wanted you to see...me.” Her desire burned hot under her breast as she waited for his response.

He stooped low so he could hold the skirt for her to step into it. First one leg, then the other, and John shimmied the fabric up her legs, to her hips where it rode low and just below her belly. She had only a moment to admire herself in the mirror before John slipped his arm behind both of hers, pulling her close, forcing her breasts upward. Teyla bit back a small moan when John nipped her in that soft vulnerable place between neck and shoulder.

“There's more in that box,” he said softly. “You've been a very naughty girl.”

Although Teyla had always looked askance at the tendency for dirty talk amongst the Terrans, something about the way John held her, the way that he looked at her called up something deep and elemental in her blood. She wanted to fight and she wanted to yield; a complex melding of emotion and need that Teyla had never felt before.

“Put it on me,” she said, her voice low. “I want you to.”

He let her go and went back to the box, talking out the corset almost reverently. It had been quite a feat to get it made. With Laura Cadman's help, Teyla had her measurements taken as well as digital pictures which had been sent to a well regarded corset maker on Earth. Laura had brought back the muslin form, fitted Teyla into it. The complex fitting video had left both women laughing but appreciative once the final product was shipped out.

Seeing John taking it out and running his hands over the black brocade, Teyla knew that the expense and trouble had been worth it. He came back to her, holding it up. “How tight?” he asked.

She raised her arms, and he fitted it around her body doing up the middle catches in the front before he laced up the back. “How tight, Teyla?” he asked again, breath warm on her skin.

“I will tell you when,” she replied then put her hands on her waist.

John knew what he was doing, just as she thought that he would. He laced her in, then slowly worked each lace until she could feel the spring steel pulling inward. Teyla stood straighter, watching them in the mirror.

He was focused,his eyes flicking up only to check on her as he drew the laces in tighter. Teyla adjusted her breathing, slowing it, matching each restriction on her rib cage. “Yes,” she said when he reached that perfect point. “Right there.”

John reached around to do up the last of the catches in the front, her back pressed against his chest and her gasp startled even her.

“I bet that you feel good. . That you're wet between you're legs right now.” His fingers ghosted over the silk and pressed in just enough to tease. Her hips followed when he pulled away and his low laugh stoked the fire.

“Not yet,” John said. He pulled the laces one last time then tucked them at her back. Her beasts rode high, proud and uncovered, the nipples tight and aching. The corset maker had told her she could lace tighter and maybe in the future she'd consider it. For now Teyla reveled in the sight of herself in the mirror. This was armor as much as it was adornment. John at her back both lover as well as shield.

There was a rustle of tissue paper and John stepped up behind her again.

“This too?” he asked, the posture collar hanging loosely from his fingers.

Teyla swallowed and nodded. John shook his head.

“No, say it. Tell me what you want.”

Her eyes met his in the mirror. “Yes, that too.”

Gentle fingers slipped the collar around her neck and secured it. Then John's arms came around her body, cradling her.

“I don't think I've ever seen you look so beautiful,” he whispered. “And I don't think I've ever wanted to fuck you as badly as I do now.”

Teyla slowly dipped her hips and then brushed up and back against him. John's growl reverberated through her entire body.

“You'll pay for that,” John said. “Wait until Rodney and Ronon see you.”

“But you saw me first,” Teyla teased. “The honor is yours.”

The light in John's eyes was predatory. “It's always been mine,” he said then led her into the other room.


End file.
